


It ain't Cheating if Everybody does it

by rivendellelve



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Dutch Has A Plan, Fluff, Literal Partners in Crime, M/M, Young!Hosea, a little bit of horse stealing never hurt anybody, gratuitous cheating at card games, preGang era, young!Dutch Van der Linde
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27088963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivendellelve/pseuds/rivendellelve
Summary: “This is – without any doubt – the worst idea you have ever had.”“Yet. The night's still young and I'm sure I can think of a few more things to do.”“You are insufferable”, Hosea sighed.Dutch has a plan. Hosea has doubts and they should really get a room.
Relationships: Hosea Matthews/Dutch van der Linde
Comments: 12
Kudos: 39





	It ain't Cheating if Everybody does it

“This is – without any doubt – the worst idea you have ever had.”

“Yet. The night's still young and I'm sure I can think of a few more things to do.”

“You are insufferable”, Hosea sighed making one last bid for sanity. “You have seen this monster have you not? Even _if_ you win that horse she won't let anyone ride her.”

“You worry too much. I'm great with horses.” Dutch toyed with the end of Hosea's scarf. “And you'll help me, won't you?”

Hosea sighed again, defeated. “Insufferable.” His eyes met Dutch's. “Get on with it, you lout, or your grand scheme'll fall apart before it's even started.”

Dutch scoffed, “Please, only two-bit criminals have schemes. I-”, he paused for dramatic effect and crowded into Hosea's space. “have a plan.”

Hosea placed his hands on Dutch's hip, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Alright, what is your plan?”

“My _outstanding_ plan.”

This time he did roll his eyes. “Sure, your outstanding, magnificent, absolutely incredible plan. Please tell me or my soul shall never know peace.”

“One word: poker:”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Sometimes he wondered. “You do realize that the only reason no one has won that horse yet is because her owner is cheating big time. And the fact that no one has raised a stink yet means he has enough muscle to discourage any would-be dissenters.”

The whole spectacle had been impossible to miss. As soon as they had arrived in this town they'd heard about the horse being the big prize in the nightly poker games out the saloon. Many a fool had already tried to win her and left a lot poorer than he came. And he could understand why. She was a beautiful palomino thoroughbred with bright intelligent eyes and an elegant neck. She also was as mean as the day was long. If he had to guess he'd bet all the money they might end up losing tonight on this not being the first town trying to win this particular horse. She probably had precious little in her life beyond standing in an enclosure and looking pretty to entice gullible fools into betting a small fortune. He had to admit it was a solid con as long as you moved towns fast and far enough.

Dutch however was not to be discouraged, pulling Hosea's hand away from his face as he pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

“Between two expert conmen like us I am sure we can outsmart them.” He gave a Hosea a brilliant smile and Hosea swore he saw a tooth sparkle.

“Fine”, he sighed. He was doing that a lot lately.

“Fine?”

“We're doing it. But-” he poked a finger into Dutch's face. “if this whole thing goes to hell in a hand basket I reserve the right to tell you I told you so.”

Dutch clutched his heart, a look of mock betrayal on his face. “So cruel. Never in my wildest dreams would I have expected the one person in my life I trust to betray me like this.”

Hosea shrugged, grinning. “Either that or you don't get to complain you lot your rings if this goes wrong. Ever.”

Now Dutch looked genuinely pained. “But they're my favorites.”

“Yep.”

“Okay, I'll give you the I-told-you-so. Not that you'll need it because we will outsmart those simpletons without breaking a sweat.” Overconfidence thy name was Van der Linde.

Dutch brushed his lips over Hosea's. “Give me twenty minutes before you follow me”, he murmured.

Hosea ran his hand through the hair at the nape of Dutch's neck. “Just don't lose too much money until then.”

Dutch huffed, clearly amused, the air ghosting across Hosea's face. “I make no promises.”

They disentangled themselves, Dutch strutting out of the alley and Hosea leaning against a wall, making himself comfortable. He lit a cigarette before taking out his watch and crossing his legs. He had some time to kill.

Twenty minutes later he entered the saloon. Most of the patrons were clustered around a single table, cheering, jeering and – as far as he could tell – making their own bets as to who would win. A familiar voice rose above the din. He rubbed his face to hide his smile. Seemed like Dutch was getting into his spiel about his great uncle Dunwoodie and the priceless gold ring he inherited. He ordered a drink at the bar and struck up a conversion with the bartender, miming the ignorant fool new to town.

The man was all too happy to go into great detail about the game that had been going on for the past three days and how Mr. Anderson – good to know the name of their mark – was bound to lose at some point and really, he should give it a try if he was in the market for a new horse. Hosea decided then and there that either the good old barkeep was an imbecile or he was in on it. Maybe a little bribe or a share of the loot to sweeten the deal. He leaned against the counter and surveyed the crowd. He counted at least four people not interested in the game, instead only focused on those around them. No scratch that, five people. But the fifth had the shifty-eyed look of a third-rate pickpocket so he was not a threat they'd need to contend with. Might even be useful.

So including the guy playing cards there were at least five of them, six if he were to count the bartender, against two of them. If they pulled this of they shouldn't be caught alone in a dark alley. Or caught at all for that matter. Downing the last of his whiskey and ordering a new one he sidled closer to the players, finding a good vantage point to signal Dutch. With his help Dutch managed to hold his own but never got close to clearing the table and winning the blasted horse. He needed to give Dutch an extra edge. Scanning the spectators again from a new angle with the advantage of already knowing who was in on the scam he identified the one who was signaling the one at the table when to keep pushing and when to fold. Either that or he just had a really itchy nose every time one of the players had a good hand. Really an inconvenience. He was supposed to be the only one doing that.

Given that Dutch was holding his cards in a way that didn't let anyone see more than one of his card without being overtly conspicuous he really just needed to throw their target off balance long enough for Dutch to gain the upper hand. Taking a sip from his glass to let Dutch know to keep going he casually changed positions and roped two of the spectators into a friendly conversation. Leaning closer to be heard over the din they just happened to be blocking the view, completely on accident of course.

Turns out without his helping hand Mr. Anderson was not that great of a poker player.

“Well”, Dutch laid out his cards with a flourish, “I'd say I won.”

Hosea emptied his drink as Anderson slid the ownership papers across the table and invited Dutch for a drink with a thin-lipped smile. Time to get out. The thief still lurking about was getting awkwardly close to one of the patrons, wallet changing owners unnoticed in the commotion. This was going to be almost too easy.

He locked eyes with Dutch, took a deep breath and-

“Hey! I saw that! He just stole your wallet!” He pointed accusingly at the thief, yelling at the top of his lungs. “Everyone check your pockets! Who knows what else he took.”

People were falling over themselves either trying to get away or trying to go after the fleeing man with some left standing in the way, unsure what to do. It was a child's play to slip away unnoticed. Whistling to himself he strolled back to the stable, stopping at the corner and waiting. Judging by the shouting their new friends discovered that Dutch – and their priceless horse – were already gone. So sad, too bad. They tore out of the stable on the back of their horses just a moment later, splitting up to search. He lit himself a cigarette, enjoying the cool night air and the satisfaction of a successful con.

Done with his smoke break – and having given Dutch enough of a head start that no one would suspect he was following him – he sauntered over to the stable only to discover that his horse was also gone. The little Morgan Dutch had been riding since his horse died was still here though. Huffing against the pang of annoyance he patted the horse's neck. He supposed he could forgive Dutch for wanting a reliable steed making his escape. This time. Taking the reins he led the Morgan out of the stable before swinging himself into the saddle and riding out into the night.

Luckily the little cabin they had holed up in was not that far away. And perhaps even luckier it was hard to find unless you knew where to look. Lying off the beaten path, nestled between trees the abandoned homestead made for the perfect hideout. Well almost perfect, he amended once it came into sight. It certainly needed some maintenance.

Dandelion nickered happily when he spotted Hosea, probably hoping for a treat to make up for the indignity of having to let someone else ride him. And in the middle of the night, too.

“You're a big baby, you know that?”, he told the Andalusian, holding out a sugar cube and rubbing his nose. “The most spoiled horse in the entire west.” Big brown eyes gazed at him patiently.

Not wanting to be forgotten the Morgan shoved its nose under Hosea's arm from behind, and even the new mare's ears flickered forward hopefully until she remembered she actually hated humans. He left a sugar cube lying on the fence for her anyway. He was just starting to brush the Morgan down when the door opened and light came pouring out.

“There you are! I've been wondering if you had gotten lost”, Dutch greeted him exuberantly.

“No, not lost. Just turns out my partner in crime is not only a swindler but also a common horse thief.” He untangled a knot in the Morgan's mane.

“Now that – that sounds like an awful person. Are you sure you want to keep doing business with him?” Dutch snaked his arm around Hosea's waist from behind, resting his chin on Hosea's shoulder. “Though I'd argue that one horse was won fair and square and the other one was borrowed at most.”

Hosea smiled, still brushing. “I think 'borrowed' implies asking for permission first.”

Dutch kissed the side of his neck. “Granted. I guess I'll have to make it up to you then.”

“You got something in mind?”, he breathed, trying to ignore the goosebumps racing down his body.

Dutch started playing with the buttons on his vest. “I might.” He let the suggestion hang in the air for a heartbeat before drawing back. “I think we should celebrate, we deserve it.”

Dutch let go of his waist then, grabbing his hand instead and Hosea let himself be tugged inside. There was a fire burning and even though the night was not cold, the heat was more than welcome. A bottle of wine was set on the table with two glasses beside and Dutch's recently acquired gramophone – _we need some culture, Hosea, otherwise we'll just be barbarians living in the woods_ – playing music in the background. He raised his eyebrow at Dutch.

“Trying to get me drunk, are you?”

“Trying to get both of us drunk. Which is exactly why I'm opening that bottle.”

They emptied the wine bottle in no time, Dutch recounting the best parts of the poker game that, really, he mostly won through his own skill and not any cheating whatsoever. Hosea told him how the sore losers came chasing after Dutch and if he embellished a little – or a lot – there was no one to contradict him.

“Did you see his face-” Dutch howled bending over. “- when he realized he'd lost?”

“Like he swallowed vinegar”, Hosea laughed. “I thought he'd jump over the table and strangle you right then and there.”

Dutch nodded, laughing so hard he almost fell of his chair. Hosea grabbed onto him, getting pulled halfway out of his before they caught themselves. He was still holding Dutch's hand when their laughter died down. Dutch gazed at their clasped hands pensively, stroking his thumb across Hosea's skin.

“We should dance.”

“Dance?”

Dutch stood and pulled him up with him.

“Yes, dance. You _can_ manage that, can you?”

Now that sounded like a challenge.

“I don't know, can _you_?” He cocked his head to the side when a thought struck him. “Wait, can you even dance?”

Dutch huffed, then shrugged. “How hard can it be, people a lot less smart than me do it all the time.” He smiled. “I'm sure I can manage.”

Hosea shook his head, returning the smile. “I guess, I'll have to teach you then.” He took Dutch's hands, positioning one on his hip and holding on to the other. “Just follow my lead.”

After a moment to get back into the rhythm of things muscle memory kicked in and movements becoming smoother. He took them through the basic steps, trying to ignore the feeling of Dutch's hand against his waist. It was awfully distracting. Dutch tightened his grip and he almost stumbled into the table. Very smooth.

“How did you learn dancing?”

He blinked, needing a second to parse the question. “My aunt taught me.”

“Your aunt?”

He shrugged. “Well, she wasn't actually my aunt, I don't think we were related at all, but we were close.” He chuckled at the memory. “She always insisted I had a dancer's frame and needed to learn.”

They stopped and Dutch took the opportunity to draw him closer.

“She was right, you know. You do have a dancer's frame.” Dutch let go of his hand and ran his fingers across his back. “I don't think I've appreciated that before.”

“Oh?”, he was acutely aware of how breathy his voice sounded.

“Uh huh, I think we should do some appreciating.”

Dutch's face was awfully close, lips slowly brushing against his in a silent question. He ran his fingers through hair at the nape of Dutch's neck, opening his mouth to the kiss. It was all the invitation Dutch needed, deepening the kiss and walking him backwards, hands roaming freely over his body. He startled when something touched the back of his legs, breaking the kiss to look behind himself. Dutch took the opportunity to push him down onto the bed and after that he didn't think much anymore.

He woke up when the sun crept over the horizon, its warm fingers reaching through the windows and touching his face. He put his arm over his eyes. He was warm in his cocoon of sheets, his muscles were pleasantly sated and Dutch had his arm wrapped around his waist, keeping him in place. He did not want to get up. Burrowing deeper into his blankets he dozed off again.

The next time he came to the sun was decidedly higher. He squinted a bit. Might as well get up and make some coffee. Extricating himself from Dutch's embrace he slipped out of the bed and out of the room, gathering his clothes as he went. Better not wake Dutch because he was a late sleeper and would insist Hosea stay in bed with him. And if he did they'd probably not leave this bed anytime soon. For more than one reason.

Lighting a fire in the kitchen oven he set the percolator down, leaving the coffee to brew while he went outside to feed the horses. Dandelion greeted him cheerfully and so did the Morgan but their newest acquisition was unimpressed.

“You'll warm up to us soon enough”, he told her, leaving an extra carrot out for her. She did not look convinced but she ate the carrot so that was something. Back inside the aroma of coffee was wafting through the air, filling the room and hopefully rousing his sleeping companion. His efforts soon were rewarded when he heard noises from the direction of the bedroom. He poured a second cup holding it up for Dutch to take when he shuffled in half-dressed, mumbling.

“You're wearing too many clothes.”

Hosea grinned. “Good morning to you, too.” Rooting around in their supply bag he fished out bread and cheese, offering some to Dutch. “So what's on the agenda today?”

“Well”, Dutch gave him a suggestive look over the rim of his mug. “I have a few ideas.”

He rolled up his newspaper and gave Dutch a playful smack. “Get your mind out of the gutter. You have a new horse to break in. Can't do that if you can't ride.”

Dutch choked on his coffee. “Now whose mind is in the gutter?”, he coughed. “Also, where did you get the newspaper?”

“Borrowed it from the saloon.”

“Borrowed?” Dutch raised his eyebrow.

“Possibly stole”, he shrugged then added with a cheeky grin, “but they were done with it anyway.”

“Anything interesting?”

Hosea folded the newspaper, tossing it onto the table. “Not particularly, nothing we didn't know already anyway.” He shrugged. “Though there's supposed to be a good fishing spot nearby.”

“You read that in the newspaper?”

“No, spoke to some of the locals yesterday. Was thinking I'd try and catch us some dinner.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “Unless you need me for something?”

Dutch gave him a grin that could only be described as wicked. “I could think of a thing or two...”, he cleared his throat, “but if you mean help with the horse, then no, I think I can manage. Though”, he added, “I'd like to borrow Dandelion. Officially this time.”

Hosea nodded. “Sure.” Given his horse's even temper Dandelion would probably a good fit for dealing with a high strung thoroughbred.

After breakfast he collected his fishing gear, packing a midday meal as well, given that he might be a while and went to saddle the Morgan. Dutch already had the thoroughbred a pen, using a rope to send her into a canter whenever she showed aggression toward him. He leaned on the fence, enjoying the view. Dutch had foregone his usual vest instead opting only for a simple shirt. A shirt that hugged his frame nicely. He tore his eyes away lest he still be here by noon.

Hoisting himself into the saddle he kicked his horse into an easy canter making his way toward the river he heard about. He followed the road south until he came across huge boulder at which point he left the road and headed west. Soon the sparkling of water told him he was going the right direction. The river meandered lazily through a peaceful meadow, a few trees providing shade at its edge and basically begging him to sit beneath them as he dangled his bait. He smiled. Who was he to ignore such an invitation.

Letting the Morgan graze he cast his line before plopping down under one of the trees and stretching his legs. The sun was shining brightly, enough for him to pull his hat further down into his face. Surrounded by the quiet hum of busy insects, the chirping and singing of birds and the hypnotic splashing of waves, his eyes started drooping. Maybe he could prop his fishing rod up against is satchel – as long as he still kept his hand on it he'd still notice if something bit. He got his journal out, intent on getting some drawing done but the sun was warm and his eyes were heavy and maybe he could just close them for just a second…

A splash and his rod flew from his slack hands before he was even aware of what was happening. His eyes shot open and he scrambled for his rod, trying to grasp it before it disappeared into the river, only to find boots. He looked up.

“Seriously?” he groaned.

“You should have seen your face!”, Dutch laughed flopping down beside him, Hosea's fishing rod in his hand.

Hosea rolled onto his back, rubbing his face. “Way to give me a heart attack”, he groused.

Dutch put a hand on his chest, over his heart. “Now you*re just being melodramatic, your heart's fine.”

“No-” Hosea shook his head, clutching Dutch's hand with his own “- the light is fading, I think this might be it.” He reached out to cup Dutch's cheek with his free hand. “Tell my kids I love them.”

His hand dropped to the ground, his eyes falling closed.

“You don't have any kids.”

He opened one eye to squint at Dutch. “This is the part where you're supposed to cry and curse the cruel world”, he supplied in a stage-whisper.

“You're not dead, though.”

“Yes, I am. I'm not even breathing.” He held his breath to prove his point.

“Huh huh, but you're forgetting one thing-” Dutch leaned closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I can still feel your heartbeat.”

He opened both eyes and mock-glared Dutch. “I am very dead and you are cold as ice for refusing to mourn me.”

Dutch leaned closer, running his hand up and down Hosea's body. “Oh no, maybe I can... resuscitate you.”

Hosea bit his lip, trying to not lean into the touch. “You know, this is a popular fishing spot.”

“So?” Dutch bent down to press a kiss to Hosea's neck.

“So”- it was getting hard to concentrate as Dutch left a trail of kisses on his skin- “we're bound to get company sooner rather than later.”

“And?” Dutch had reached his throat and was undoing the first button on his shirt.

“Remember Willow's Creek? I don't think that needs a repeat performance.”

Dutch smirked against his skin. “You say that as if you've never been run out of a town for public indecency before.”

Another button undone.

“I have not. Because unlike you I am not a scoundrel.”

Three buttons open now and he really, really wanted to let Dutch have his way with him. And then maybe have his way with Dutch. In a truly Herculean effort he tugged lightly at Dutch's hair, pulling him into a kiss that promised more later. Emphasis on later. Dutch chased his lips for another kiss before pulling himself away and sitting down beside him, leaving just enough space to be not considered outright scandalous. Their shoulders bumped as Hosea sat up as well.

“You know”, Dutch told him after a moment of silence. “Maybe you should've pursued an acting career after all. The pathos alone moved me to tears.” Dutch gave him a cheeky grin, pretending to wipe tears from his eyes. “Truly magnificent.”

“Crocodile tears maybe”, Hosea shot back with an answering grin, barely stopping himself from making an innuendo that would've surely ended in the very activity he just insisted they shouldn't be doing out in the open. At least not close to civilization. Out in the wilderness, though, not that was a different story. He cleared his throat.

“So how did horse training go?”, he asked nodding at where he could see Dandelion and the thoroughbred tethered to a tree.

Dutch shrugged. “Her previous owner named her Nightmare and I can see why.”

“Nightmare? That's what we're going to call her?” He frowned.

“No, definitely not.” Dutch shook his head emphatically. “With a name like that of course she acts out. She's a lady and she needs a fitting name.”

“Why not call her Lady, then?”, Hosea suggested.

Dutch looked thoughtful. “Lady”, he murmured looking at the horse in question. “She looks like a Lady, doesn't she?” He nodded. “Yes, I think that name fits her.” He took Hosea's hand in his. “Now we only have to teach her how to act like a lady.”

Hosea snorted. “Good luck with that.”

“Apropos luck, how did the fishing go?”

“It went great until some hoodlum stole my rod.”

“The nerve of that person.” Dutch coughed in what sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “So catch anything before you were so rudely interrupted?”

“I was surely about to”, Hosea moaned, “but now that fish is gone.”

This time Dutch did laugh. “Oh really?”, he asked. “Because that's not what it looked like.” Dutch bumped his shoulder and gave him a shit-eating grin. “Looked more like you were sleeping.”

“Well”, Hosea sniffed. “I can still catch more fish in my sleep than you can while awake.”

“Is that a challenge?” Dutch's eyes sparkled bright with mischief.

“You bet it is. Whoever catches less has to prepare dinner.”

Dutch grabbed his own fishing rod and settled back down next to Hosea.

“It's on, old man”, he told Hosea, overconfidence practically oozing out of every pore.

Hosea let the insult slide, this time, because he had prepared his own bait and Dutch was about to eat those words.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all, had this in my drafts forever and finally decided to finish it. Turned out slightly shorter than I had planned but I got stuck and just couldn't get past it, so here we are
> 
> comments are watering my crops and clearing my skin so please drop a line or two ♥


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